


Severed Ties

by OliviaWinter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Actual Reader Insert Story, Almost Like A Sister Winchester, Angst, Buckle up kids, But no physical description, Dean's hair is brown fight me, Demon Dean Winchester, F/M, Fat Shaming, Forced Orgasm, Graphic Description, Kidnapping, Only that they're plus size, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Second Person, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reader has a detailed backstory, Sparsely updated as of now, Torture, Triggers, all hurt very little comfort, i guess reader is like 29ish? i didn't mean to give them an age but whoops, i suck & im sorry, im not that great of a writer y'all this is mainly just for funsies, im telling you its sooooo very sparsely updated y'all, im trying ok, its really bad and triggering prolly, plus size reader, so viewer discretion is advised, this aint one of those stories where the victim falls in love with their abuser because i hate those
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2018-10-30 02:45:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10867413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OliviaWinter/pseuds/OliviaWinter
Summary: (Y/n) has known the Winchesters since childhood, and has always had problems getting along with Dean. After Dean is turned into a demon, he decides he wants to hurt (Y/n) the worst way possible.





	1. Chapter 1

You pushed yourself to a sitting position on your bed, reaching over to hit the stop button on your phone that was obnoxiously beeping to wake you up. You stretched, wincing as you felt your injuries from last night really make themselves known. You sat there and looked around the motel room, trying to postpone having to leave the now warm, comfortable bed. The sun was shining heavily through the window, signaling it was at least late morning by now and you saw the discarded machete along with the blood stained clothes you'd pulled off of yourself last night after having killed four vampires by yourself. As you pulled the covers back and stood, you felt the bruises that were now entirely developed into a dark purple color in various spots all over your body. You'd barely limped away with your life last night and you shook your head as you thought that the vampires had definitely made their mark. You first pulled out some painkillers from your bag and downed them before turning to the bathroom with the intent to pee and wash your face, then decided simply to take a shower. As you stepped under the warm drizzle of water, you chuckled as you imagined the maid finding the bed sheets that were almost soaked in blood (not yours, thankfully). 

The water pooling at your feet had a worrisome dark pink hue and it made you cringe thinking about just how close you could have been a vamp's dinner last night. It was your own fault, you'd gathered. If you'd done the proper research instead of just rushing into it, you probably would have realized that there weren't two vampires as you'd thought, but almost too many to take on alone. When you were done washing your body of the dirt, blood, and grime, you quickly shampooed and conditioned your hair before stepping out of the shower and wrapping your body with the too small motel towel. Sighing, you walked back into the main room, going to your duffel and picking out a simple flannel shirt with black jeans and boots. As you got dressed, you looked to the clock in the room, seeing that you had only twenty minutes until checkout time. Not wanting to pay for another night, you briskly packed your belongings, wrapping the blood soaked weapons with the blood soaked clothes before stuffing them into the duffel bag. 

You slipped on the black leather jacket that had belonged to your uncle on, and, duffel in hand, you stepped through the door and headed for the cobalt blue '65 Chevy Camaro that one of your uncle’s hunting friends, Bobby Singer, had fixed up for him shortly after he was introduced to the world of the Supernatural. When he was killed, you had inherited it, and you’ve been driving it ever since. You packed your things into the trunk and went back into the motel room to check if you'd left anything, and you realized you'd forgot your toothbrush in the bathroom. As you grabbed it, you glanced up to the mirror and saw just how badly your face was bruised. Your entire right eye was colored a dark purple color but you were thankful the swelling had gone down overnight. The dark color reached all the way past your right cheekbone and finally faded out there. You had a busted lip and a cut on your left cheek. You sighed, knowing you'd have to ignore the stares just like any other day. You grabbed the key and walked out of the room, returning to the lobby and checking out of the motel. You hopped in your car and started driving, knowing somewhere along the way you'd find another job. 

&

You'd been driving for a couple of hours, having stopped for gas and food once, but you were now in Omaha, Nebraska. Your phone rang and you blindly reached for it, not taking your eyes off the road while you swiped to answer the call. 

"Talk to me." You simply stated instead of a hello. This was a work phone so there was no way any regular John would be calling you on it.. 

"(Y/n)," A deep voice almost startled you with how your name was said. You frowned, wondering why this voice sent shivers down your spine. 

"Who is this?" You asked, not fully recognizing the other end. 

"Dean. It's been a while, Sweetheart." Oh, so that's why you felt uneasy. You and Dean Winchester had a complicated past, or just more so you both hated each other. You'd met him through his father, and you were both just kids. After a few failed hunts, you'd decided to blame each other and only worked together when you absolutely had to, both slinging off hand insults at each other when you could. It used to be just petty talk, but it evolved into heated arguments when he’d make remarks about your weight about your weight and you making comments about his whoring around. 

"Winchester. What do you want?" You asked, taking no time to be polite. You heard him scoff before he answered. 

"There's a case of some shapeshifter bullshit and I'd figured you might want it," He said, sounding completely at ease with talking to someone he'd loathed. You'd waited a moment for the insult to follow his sentence, but when it didn't come, you rolled your eyes. 

"Why don't you and Sam take care of that?" You asked, sounding brash but actually being curious as to why he was even contacting you in the first place. 

"I'm not working with Sam anymore," He said nonchalantly. Your eyebrows raised in surprise. The brothers were attached at the hip, ready to do anything necessary to save the other, and now they just weren't working together anymore? 

"And why is that?" You couldn't help but asking. 

"Long story. I'll tell you when you get here." Your eyebrows shot up even more. 

"You're going on a hunt with me?" You scoffed, amusement present in your voice. You and Dean were going to work a job by yourselves while you couldn't even stand being around each other for more than a couple of hours? Like that would work out well, you thought. 

"It's a big one and I don't trust you to do it yourself," He said straightforwardly. There was the asshole in him. You silently shook your head and asked for an address. 

"Effingham, Kansas. Meet me at the Springs Motel, room 37." He said before hanging up. 

"Douche," you muttered under your breath as you took the next highway south. 

&

You arrived in the small town of Effingham just after dark and immediately you spotted the neon sign for the Springs Motel. You pulled into the parking lot, driving down until you saw the black Impala in one of the spots in front of the room 37. You pulled in next to it, turning off the ignition and getting out of the car while taking a deep breath, trying to calm yourself and not to give into any of his insults he was bound to throw your way. You weren’t exactly up for a fight after the hunt gone wrong and the long car ride. You walked up to the door, grabbing the small black flask filled with holy water you stashed in your jacket pocket and unscrewed the lid while grabbing the silver knife you had concealed in your boot. Something seemed off about this whole thing and you'd be damned if Dean had turned into a werewolf and got the jump on you. Hiding the flask in the waistband of the jeans, covered by your flannel, you knocked on the door, looking onto either side of you to see if anything was out of the ordinary. Everything seemed ordinary and in a few seconds, the door swung open to reveal the douchier of the two brothers. He smiled down condescendingly at you and moved out of the way to let you through. You walked past him and turned to face him as he shut the door. 

"So," He began before you took the flask out and sprinkled the holy water on him. It actually took you by surprise when he hissed in pain and the water burned his skin. You reached for your knife, stepping back and looking as he looked at you with now inky black eyes. 

"Well, I should have expected that. Now that you know my dirty little secret, why don't we just cut to the chase." You watched his every move as you also tried to find a way out of this motel room. "There is no case here. I just wanted to be alone with you for a little while." He said, walking towards you slowly, and in return you took the steps back. He worried you with how his tone of voice had gotten and how he was looking at you as if you were the grand prize for some radio show contest. It wasn’t the Dean you knew, even when he was being unbelievably spiteful.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis imm-" You immediately started before he simply laughed. 

"That won't work, Sweetheart. I'm not possessed. Whatever part of my soul was left was turned into a demon. It's all me, baby." He said, still coming towards you. You didn’t understand what he meant, but you didn’t exactly have the time to sit around and ask questions.

"Dean, I don't want to hurt you." You said trying to make your voice and body language as threatening as possible. He didn't look phased by it. 

"You? Hurt me? Honey, I think you've got that backwards." He stated drily. As soon as he was too close to you, you chose to try and push him away while making a break for the door. You got a couple of feet before you felt his strong arm wrap around your neck, effectively putting you in a sleeper hold and cutting of your air supply. You tried to kick your leg back, aiming for his crotch like your uncle had showed you all those years ago, but he knew exactly what you were doing and moved out of the way before any of your kicks could land. When the blackness started creeping into your vision, you tried fighting harder, but it was too late, and you lost consciousness.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean takes something he's wanted from you for a long time, and you're helpless to stop him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's just so bad y'all like I'm warning you right now. Graphic scenes ahead. Trigger warning applied. Also im sorry im a huge pile of shit and I don't know what updating regularly is.

You woke up with a start, temporarily confused about why you were tied to a bed in a shabby motel room. When the memories of a demonized Dean Winchester tricking you into travelling to a strange town resurfaced, you quickly surveyed the dark room for any sign of him. You were the only occupat of the room, and there was no sign of anyone else in the main room or through the open door to the bathroom. You glanced up and down to where your wrists and ankles were tied to the bedframe, and you started to try and tug on the restraints to loosen them. Dean really knew his knots, so it was basically useless, but that didn’t stop you from pulling on the restraints until the skin under the ropes were red, raw, and almost bleeding. It was stupid to physically exert yourself, but if it offered even the slightest bit of hope for escaping this room before Dean came back, you’d be willing to do anything. As you were attempting to free yourself from the restraints, you thought about the difficult past between you and the eldest Winchester. 

Your introduction into the world of the Supernatural had began when you were only six years old and a family of ghouls had picked your home for their dinner one night. To your luck, your uncle had been visiting and he knew what he needed to do to kill the monsters, and he succeeded. However, he wasn’t fast enough to save either of your parents or your three older brothers. He’d taken you and set the house on fire after all was said and done. Unsure what to do next, he’d taken you to meet up with John WInchester and his boys. While the adults discussed their next plan of action in the next room, you had tried to make friends with the boys. At first, Sam, Dean, and yourself had gotten along swimmingly and John and your uncle had decided to just stick together for a while, as John had experience with raising kids and your uncle had absolutely none. You had gotten closer to Sam since he was only five years older than you compared to Dean’s nine. Dean was fifteen, and he had gotten into the attitude that he didn’t want to have anything to do with a little kid like yourself. When Sam had refused to ditch you in favor of him, that’s where all of your and Dean’s problems started. He’d see Sam get along better with you than he could due to the fact you and Sam were both still children and he didn’t know how else to process the jealousy. 

It would start off as passive aggressive comments about how you’d done something to annoy him, and when you started to gain weight due to the fast food only lifestyle, he decided to target his insults to that. Each time, Sam would start an argument with Dean, telling him to leave you alone. If either your uncle or John were around, they too would take up in your defence but it never deterred Dean from trying to make your life hell for the next year and a half. When you were eight, your uncle and John had parted ways and you didn’t see the Winchester boys for another two years, when your uncle died hunting a Tulpa. You had called John, and he, along with Sam and Dean, had come to give your uncle a proper hunter’s burial. John had decided to take you in and raise you with his own since you were only ten at the time. Which meant that you had more great times with your close friend Sam, but were more put down by Dean as you’d ever been. It had made you develop a deep hatred towards the lighter haired brother. Dean had started his womanizing ways a couple of years before, so you decided to use that against him. You put up with it until you turned fourteen, when you told John how thankful you were that he took you in like he had, but you’d talked Bobby into letting you live with him until you were eighteen. 

After that, you’d seen John every once in awhile when you met up for a hunt, but you’d only saw Sam or Dean once or twice. You’d call Sam and catch up every few months, and maybe if you had bothered to call him after Dean had called you today, then you wouldn’t be in this mess. You huffed and stopped struggling against your restraints, unable to even loosen them. You laid there, staring at the door, trying to think of any way you could seriously get out of this motel room. A loud engine getting closer pulled you from your thoughts as you saw headlights shining through the curtains before the engine cut off and the lights went out. Your heart started beating faster as you realized Dean was back and that he’d be walking into the motel room in just a few seconds. You quickly started to struggle against the ropes as your mind went into fight or flight mode. You could hear the opening and closing of a car door, and then the steps that brought the demon closer to you. As you heard the sound of a key entering the door handle, you forced yourself to stop moving and to take a deep breath. You didn't want Dean to see you feared him, as it would just provoke him. The door swung open and there stood the man, somehow intimidating even though he only stared at you. You barely saw the shadow of his smile through the dark. 

“Look who’s awake!” He chuckled, mostly to himself and he entered the room and closed the door with his foot, turning on the lights, and walking to the table. You flinched at the sudden brightness offending your eyes, and you had to squint to see him place the plastic grocery bags on the table by the door. “I almost thought I strangled you too hard.” He spoke while pulling out two six packs of beer and a bottle of whiskey, among other things. As your eyes adjusted to the light, you glared daggers into Dean as he finished unloading and turned to smirk at you. He shook his head with a little laugh as he turned back around to fish around in his gear bag. “If looks could kill,” You heard him say almost too softly for you to hear. Your angler bubbled over and you couldn’t stop yourself from speaking before it came out. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You snarled at the man. He spared you a glance and you could see his eyebrows slightly rose in amused surprise. 

“You’ll find out soon enough, sweetheart.” He simply said while taking a few items out of the duffle. 

“Dean,” You started, anger coating your words. “I swear to fucking God if you don’t untie-” You were cut off by how fast he moved across the room, his hand around the binds before slipping one of the rope and just squeezing your forearm. The pained scream that left your mouth almost shocked you as you felt your radius and ulna bones shattering as they were pushed together. When you silenced yourself, a whimper left you as you realized that Dean had literally broken your arm with minimal effort and his bare hands.

“You won’t do jack-shit, (Y/n). I’m in control here.” Your head jerked to the side as he grabbed your jaw and got so close you could feel his breath blow over your face. You only shut your already closed eyes tighter while trying to will the pain in your arm away. “Look at me.” Dean demanded his voice sending shivers down your spine. When you made no move to do as, he surprised you by grabbing your broken arm and bending it where it was broken. As you screamed again, you couldn't help but wonder how and why no one had bothered to check on you. Certainly, at the very least, you should have gotten a noise complaint. The brief thought went to the back of your mind as you forced yourself to open your eyes so Dean would stop abusing the already broken bone. You were met with two inky black eyes that made your stomach drop further. Not seeing the familiar green, it made you realize that this wasn’t actually Dean doing this to you. But then you remembered how he said he wasn’t possessed. How could his human soul have possibly turned into a demon? Dean didn’t say anything for what felt like hours, but in reality it was just a couple of seconds. It felt like those evil eyes were staring through you, and you couldn’t keep the eye contact anymore, opting out for looking down at your now sickly bent arm. Even though you knew demons possessed superhuman strength, you were still in shock how easily your childhood acquaintance had crushed your bones. The foreboding feeling started to set in and you knew you were helpless. 

Dean was right. He was in complete control of you and everything that was going to happen next. In simple terms, you were fucked. You’ve been tortured by demons once before, just for the sadism on their part, and it wasn’t fun. Demons themselves already had faced the most unmerciful torture in Hell, so they were already masters at maltreatment. You remembered having a conversation with Sam a few years ago after Dean had gotten back from Inferno about Dean willingly taken on the role of torturer to the damned. Dean hadn’t just done it because he had to, Dean had done it because he liked it. No, he loved it, you remembered bitterly, suddenly angry that you found yourself all the way up shit’s creek with no paddle. 

“(Y/n),” Dean said in a singsong voice. When your eyes refocused on him, you’d realized you spaced out. You quickly refocused on his face, trying to not upset him. His eyes were once again the beautiful emerald green you’d always admired, even though you’d never tell him. He was smiling down sweetly at you. “I’ve got so much planned for you, baby girl. Don’t drift away just yet.” He let go of your arm and walked back to the table. This time, you didn’t dare move or say anything smart in fear of a repeat with one of your other bones. In silence, you watched as Dean took out hunting gear from his bag, and your heart started to race when you realized he intended to use them on you. Your mind went into overdrive once again thinking about every possible way you could get out of here before Dean could carve into you like a pumpkin. 

You were surprised by the tears that sprang to your eyes at the realization there was no way you’d be getting out of here any more unscathed than a broken arm and a bruised neck. Dean being a demon meant he’d need have to pause his torture to eat, sleep, or even use the bathroom. You closed your eyes as a tremor went through you at the thought of the non-stop abuse you were going to be experiencing soon. Only a few seconds later, you felt his cold hand grab your face again, and you opened your eyes to see him standing near the head of the bed with a very intimidating knife looking like it was carved from a jaw bone. You gulped as you looked from the knife to him, seeing he was watching you with an evil smirk on his face. 

“Dean…” You said slowly, scared that you would upset him in some way. “Why are you doing this?” Your words were small and you cursed yourself for how your voice broke at the end. You felt him stroke your jaw with his thumb as he took a moment before answering you. 

“You know, I think something in me has always just wanted to make you cry. Why do you think I mentioned you being a whale every chance I got? It really is your only flaw. If you dropped a hundred pounds, maybe you wouldn’t just be some guy’s dare.” His words made your blood boil. You’d spent a lifetime building up your confidence from where he had stomped it into the ground, and you could feel it beginning to drop again. Maybe you didn’t get to eat as well as you wanted, but that was borderline impossible considering you traveled the country doing a job that you didn’t get paid for. You’d always gotten enough exercise from the weekly hunt, but for whatever reason the extra pounds just didn’t go away. But it wasn’t like guys didn’t find you attractive, it was just that you didn’t want to lose your virginity to some random horny asshole. 

A hard slap pulled you from your head. Your cheek stung as you looked back up to see Dean now moving to the end of the bed. 

“Where the fuck do you go? You’re always zoning out. That always pissed me off when we were kids. It annoying as shit when I’m having fun, sweetheart.” He grabbed one of your ankles that were restrained to the end of the bed and took the intimidating knife placing it under the hem of your jeans. The knife was so sharp it cut through the denim like butter and you gulped, guessing that he was going to strip you so he could see you bleed better. You tried to prepare yourself mentally for what was to come. Torture was never fun, but this wouldn’t be your first rodeo. You clenched your jaw as Dean slid the knife up your leg, reaching your hip with the blade. You started at the roof, emotionless as he cut through the fabric and your right leg was left bare. Maybe if you acted disinterested about it, Dean would hurry up and kill you. You didn’t have the best feeling that you’d come out of this alive. All you had to do was wait for the sweet release of death to take you from what was about to be immense pain. A shiver went through you as Dean started rubbing your now bare thigh before sliding his hand under you to grope your behind. Your eyes darted to his face in confusion, seeing him hover over you on the bed, eyes studying you. He let a small smile show when he realized he’d gotten a reaction from you. 

“You really didn’t think this was on the menu? (Y/n), you might be fat, but you're not ugly. You know how long I’ve wanted to fuck you? Now seems as good a time as any, don’t you think?” He smiled that evil smirk that made your blood run cold. He sat up to lean back and place the knife under your other pant leg as a feeling of helplessness washed over you. As he said earlier, he had complete and total control over you. You had no choice but to lay there while he did what he wanted. Or you could try to talk him out of it. 

“Dean… You don’t want to do this.” You said, brain scrambling for something to say to make him stop. 

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I do.” He said, coming back to hover over you before he purposely let his hips rub against yours, and you had to bite your tongue when you felt his erection on your hip. You couldn’t hold back the whimper that came from you, and you felt sick when you heard Dean chuckle at it as he took the knife and cut through the flannel and undershirt you had on. He quickly cut through the center of your bra, leaving your chest bare to him. You felt his ice cold hands groping your breasts and you felt more tears gather in your ducts. You were almost left with whiplash by how fast the assault had progressed. 

“D-Dean, please! You’re all kinds of fucked up, but you’re not a rapist! Please!” The panic in your voice just seemed to spur the demon on. As he groped your chest, you felt disgusted and closed your eyes and turned your head away, hoping to lose yourself in your mind, but Dean wouldn’t have it. 

“Ah, ah, (Y/n). I want to see those beautiful (y/e/c) eyes.” He grabbed your jaw and shook your head, which made your broken arm get jostled a little. When the dull pain was reintroduced, you immediately opened your eyes, remembering that you really didn’t want any more broken bones. When you looked up, you locked eyes with him. As you stared into the incredible green that he quickly made turn into that empty black, you saw that the depraved smirk was still on his face. You didn’t want to look at his face anymore, so you opted out to glance down, regretting it immediately when you saw yourself in nothing but panties and you noticed the tent Dean had pitched. He’s so excited to fucking rape me, you thought bitterly, noticing you jaw was trembling as the tears blurred your vision completely. Dean wasn’t going to stop, no matter what was begged. Dean was bigger and stronger than you in every conceivable way, and you’d already screamed at the top of your lungs more than once, so either no one else was in the motel, or no one cared enough to say anything about it. You laid your head back on the pillow and stared at the roof, not caring that the tears were spilling over your temples and over the tops of your ears. 

“Damn,” Dean said, cutting through the waistband of your panties as your body began shaking out of fear. “I was hoping you had a little more fight in you than that. I guess you can’t have it all,” He said as he tossed the knife over to the table where it landed with a low thud. You refused to look from the certain spot on the popcorn ceiling as you heard the rustle of clothes as Dean pulled off his flannel and t-shirt, leaving his upper body naked. You couldn’t stop the small sob that left your throat upon hearing Dean undo his belt buckle. This is seriously going to happen. Dean Winchester, my childhood frenemy, is going to rape me, torture me, and kill me. You clenched your jaw shut and made sure your eyes didn’t move an inch from that particular spot on the ceiling. As you heard him unzip his pants, a thought crossed your mind. Dean’s going to be the one to take my virginity. You started full on quietly bawling your eyes out, all the time feeling Dean’s eyes watching you like a hawk. You jumped as you felt his fingers on your clit, circling it a few times, which brought you no pleasure at the very unwelcome touch, before sliding two fingers inside of you. You gasped at the uncomfortable stretch, hearing the brunette bark a laugh. 

“Oh, (Y/n),” He said, in that teasing tone he had used when you were younger. “Don’t tell me I’m going to pop your cherry.” He laughed, dramatically throwing his head back. “That’s rich! You know, your body isn’t as bad as I’ve imagined. It’s almost surprising that you’re still a virgin. Well, not for much longer, anyway.” He said, as he started pumping his fingers in and out of you. You kept on staring at that damn spot that was now engraved in your brain. You felt something warm and hard touch your thigh, and you saw out of your peripheral vision that he had a fist around himself and was timing his fingers with his stroking. Just fucking get it over with! You wanted to scream at him, but you knew he would only have punished you for it. You were thankful when he removed his fingers, but wanted to gag when you felt him position himself at your entrance. 

You sucked in a breath as you felt his weight fall on you as he laid on top of you before harshly thrusting his hips and bottoming out in you. Dean was well endowed, and the sudden thrust made you yelp out in pain as he silenced you by smashing his lips against yours. It had hurt so much more than you’d expected, and you couldn’t stop sobbing, not caring if you were making muffled sounds now. You pulled against your restraints again, knowing that it wouldn’t do anything, but unable to stop. Dean left your mouth and started kissing down your jaw and neck. 

 

“So. Fucking. Tight.” He growled in your ear, each word accented by a brutal thrust. You shut your eyes and turned your head to the side. Dean had already done the worst thing he could to you, so what was a few more broken bones? Your body didn’t even feel like your own, so maybe that would help dull the pain. Dean placed one hand against your throat as he lifted himself up to presumably look down at you, and the other went between your legs, beginning to work your clit again. Dean knew his way around the female form, so it wasn’t that much of a surprise when your body started reacting in a way you didn’t want after a few rubs. You were a blubbering mess as you tried to scoot away from his hand and body with no avail. 

“Please don’t make me, Dean. Please.” You said, voice barely above a whisper as you felt your release building. You felt revolted at yourself because of it, and only cried harder, starting to feel numb. You bit your lip to refrain from being vocal as you felt that coil in your stomach tighten to the point before the peak, and you you squeezed your eyes shut as tight as they would go when you felt your climax take over your body, your back arching as the unwanted pleasure crashed over you. Your thighs squeezed against his hips as he kept rubbing and you started to feel the pain over overstimulation. You heard Dean’s grunts get closer as he started thrusting deeper and faster, nearing his peak. You tried again to pull your hips away, but Dean tightened the hand around your throat as a warning. You sobbed as the rubbing quickly became too much and the pain completely replaced the pleasure. Dean’s final thrusts were erratic as he became more rough, growling as he suddenly stopped and you felt a new pressure hit your cervix as he groaned through his orgasm. He gave a few final, lazy thrusts after, pumping his seed into you before pulling out with an audible wet pop. He leaned over your bawling form to whisper in your ear. 

“I hope that was as good for you as it was for me.” He chuckled before again pushing his lips on yours, this time, dominating your mouth with his tongue. He kissed you long enough that you knew this wouldn’t be over for a long time. At least, longer than you had ever wanted. “Good girls get rewards.” He whispered after he pulled away from you, getting up and pulling his boxers and jeans up from where they were hastily pulled halfway down his thighs. He walked over to the table and grabbed the knife from where it landed, and walked back over to you. Please just slit my throat. You silently begged. Instead, he cut your other arm and both of your legs free before leaning forward and grabbing your hair, forcing your face in his direction. You eyes were already swollen from crying, when he pulled harshly on your hair, you opened your eyes to meet Dean’s. They were still that terrible black, and he smiled sweetly at you. 

“I’d strongly advise against you trying to run while I’m gone. I can, and will, find you. You know you won't like anything I’ll do to you after. I can promise that.” He let go of your hair and bent down to pick up his shirt as you pulled your arms from the position they’d been tied in and wrapping your good one around your body. You shook as you pulled yourself into a sitting position, forcing yourself to ignore the pain coming from your pelvis and arm. The numbness that started to take over your body helped as you watched out of the corner of your eye as Dean pulled back on his flannel and t-shirt and grabbed the knife along with the gear bag before heading towards the door. He paused, and looked back at you, forcing you to glance up to see the warning look on his face. He gave you a smile and turned, leaving the room, locking the door from the outside. As soon as you heard the Impala start up, you let yourself sob loudly, not caring who heard, only hugging and rocking yourself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't realize my italics weren't transferring in my copy and paste :( I'll fix that but heres #3 sorry its short y'all

You sat there, shaking, until you heard the screech of tires as the Impala sped out of the parking lot. After that, you couldn’t hear anything with the blood rushing in your ears, but you were certain that you were loudly sobbing. You pulled yourself from the queen sized bed and painfully made the few steps to the bathroom. Through your vision that was clouded by your tears, you hastily turned the hot water knob as far on as it would go. You cradled your broken arm and stepped over the porcelain side of the tub, carefully sitting down on the floor of the bath. The scalding water burned but you could barely feel it. You could hardly breathe though the blubbering, and the steam didn’t help, nor could you calm your racing heart. You momentarily wondered if you should get out of the tub and bend over the toilet before you could blow chunks all over the shower. 

 

_ Am I going into shock? _ You asked yourself, realizing all the symptoms. It would make sense, considering you had just gone through a extremely traumatizing event. You leaned your head against the tiled wall covered your face with your good hand, sobbing into it. You could still feel his hands all over your body, you could still feel him  _ inside  _ of you. You felt used. You felt dirty. You felt disgusting. How could he have done this to you? You knew he was a demon, but god damn it! You had grown up with him! This was the last thing you would have ever thought he’d have done to you. But here you were, sitting in a steaming hot shower in the middle of Nowhere, Kansas, after being brutally assaulted by someone you’ve known longer than you knew your own family. You were inconsolable, and when you went to move your right arm to comfort yourself by wrapping it around yourself, it made an awful ache shoot up your arm. 

 

_ Right. Shattered arm. No hospital in the near future. I’m probably never going to have the proper motor functions for this arm ever again. It’s not like I’ll need it much, considering I’ll probably be dead in a few days. _ Deciding nothing mattered right now, you let your arm be. What was the point? You ran your left hand over your face, noticing through semi swollen eyes how pruny your fingers had gotten. You bitterly wondered how long you had until the demon would return. How long until he would rape you again. 

 

You shivered at the thought and a wave of nausea rolled over you. You reached up and turned the water off, immediately feeling cold and wet. You stood up on unsteady legs, wishing the ache between your legs away. Of course, that did nothing to deter the pain, so you instead stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel from the shelf above the toilet. You wrapped it around your body and leaned your head against the door. Hesitantly, you turned your head to the side and put your ear against the door. You listened for over a minute, trying to detect any sound from the other side, but you heard nothing at all.  _ Maybe he’s still gone. If he’s not, it’s not like you can run away. Just get it over with.  _

 

You took a very deep breath and pushed the door open, letting the oxygen go when you didn’t see Dean anywhere in the room. You swallowed and stepped into the main room. You stopped in front of the bed and stared at the spot that you’d been tied to for god knows how long. You forced yourself to tear your eyes away from the bed, instead looking at the dresser the TV sat on. With your hopes high, you opened all the drawers in hope of finding clothing. And to your luck, it seemed as Dean had picked a few outfits out of your bag and placed them into the top drawer. You quickly picked up a pair of black leggings and a plain purple hoodie and rushed to get the clothing on, uncaring that your skin wasn’t completely dry. All you could envision was Dean walking through that door and forcing himself on you again, and you weren't about to make it any easier for him by being naked. Once dressed, you hastily pulled your hair up and out of your face with the hair tie that was around your good wrist. You took the wet towel and bunched it up before holding it against your chest and deciding to sit on the floor against the bed. You looked towards the door after you painfully sat down on the side of the bed furthest from the door, wanting to hide yourself the best you could given the situation. 

 

You used the towel as something to rest your head on after you pulled your knees up to your chest as much as you could. You watched the door through burning eyes and didn’t notice as your eyes drifted shut, and the exhaustion put you to sleep. It didn’t last long, or at least it seemed, before a slam of a door woke you. You jerked up, years of hunting skills kicking in and you immediately scanned the room, looking for a threat and you jumped when you saw Dean leaning against the wall by the door. His eyes were black and he was almost absolutely covered in blood. He stared at you while he put the knife made from a jaw bone into a hunting bag. There was also a new plastic grocery bag from some drug store sitting on the table. 

 

“Did you miss me?” He asked arrogantly as you began to glare daggers at him before controlling yourself, remembering what happened the last time you did that. “Come here.” He demanded as he sat down in a chair by the table. You couldn’t move, fear taking over your body and wanting you to stay far away from the threat in front of you. He cocked his head to the side as he looked at you with an amused grin on his face that was short lived as the seconds ticked on. “I don’t want to have to repeat myself, sweetheart.” Even though everything in your body told you to stay where you were, you could only imagine him breaking more bones for defying him and while you knew you probably only had days left, you didn’t want to spend them all in agonizing physical pain if you could help it. You forced yourself to your feet, wincing in pain and eyes downcast as you forced your feet to move towards him. Once you were standing a few feet away from him, you glanced up to see him staring at you intensely, before his eyes shifted to your arm. He hooked the leg of the chair opposite him with his foot and brought it to stop a few inches away from his. 

 

“Sit.” He commanded. You sat obediently while your skin was itching and telling you to run away. You glanced up when you heard the plastic bag rustling. Dean had reached into it and was now pulling out a few items, such as medical scissors, something called medical stockinette, cast padding, plaster rolls, and a small bucket that you’d get soup from a chinese place in. You were momentarily confused as you looked over the items that were all meant to make casts. You glanced up at Dean’s face to see him with his hand outstretched expectantly. Was he really going to reset and cast the arm he’d so easily broken? Why would he care if he was just going to dispose of you in a few days? Unless he wasn’t. Unless he was planning on keeping you a lot longer than a few days. You couldn’t stop your body from shaking as Dean ran out of patience and grabbed your wrist, making you yelp as your arm was jerked. 

 

“Good thing we’re the only occupants of the whole motel. I made sure of that.” He said as he grabbed the crook of your elbow with his other hand and before you knew it, he had pulled your arm, resetting the broken bones. He had to tug on it a few times before it would line up the way it was supposed to, and it took everything not to scream at the top of your lungs, instead biting almost through you bottom lip. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you scream, which he was obviously getting off on. You could taste new blood as Dean reached for the soup bowl and got up, going to the bathroom as you rested your arm on your thigh. The water ran for a little bit before turning off, and Dean came back with steamy water before dropping the plaster rolls into let them soak. He’d probably done this more times than he could count with Sam or John so it was no surprise to you that he knew what he was doing. When he reached for the stockinette, his sleeve rode up his arm to reveal an angry red mark in the shape of a backwards F. You started at it, wondering where you've seen it before as Dean wrapped the stockinette around your arm. You decided to let him do whatever he was about to do so he could stop touching you rather than dragging it out.

 

“Pretty nice mark huh?” He asked as he noticed you staring at it. You glanced up to his face, not wanting to make eye contact but curious. “It’s the Mark Of Cain. I got it to kill this bitch of a demon, and it’s “corrupted” me,” He added, using his free hand to make air quotes. “And when this asshole angel, Metatron, killed me, it’s what turned me into a demon. Because whoever has the mark cannot be killed, and to stop it from completely taking over me, I have to keep it sated with killing.” You gulped at that as he finished wrapping the stockinette, and reached for the cast padding, wrapping it all around your arm. “Personally, I like demon me. I have no unnecessary emotions holding me back anymore. Which is why I don’t care about Sam or you or anyone anymore. I’m the new and improved version of the Dean you knew, and the only reason I’m resetting your arm right now is because I don’t need it getting infected and you dying. That would mean I couldn't play with you anymore.” He chirped, making his voice childish for effect. You said nothing as he finished wrapping your arm with the padding before reaching for the plaster itself. He quickly wrapped the white rolls around, finishing the cast as he sat back in his chair and you pulled it to your lap, careful of the wet plaster. 

 

“Not too bad if I do say so myself.” He chuckled. “Now, since I was so nice to you,” Your stomach dropped, knowing what was going to come next. “Why don’t you show your appreciation.” He let his legs fall open, showing his growing erection. When you made no attempt to move, he tisked at you before talking in a voice similar to a parent scolding their child. “(Y/n), on your knees. You really don’t want to make me make you, baby girl.” He said, his tone striking fear into you. Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to slide out of the chair and onto your knees, having to shut your eyes and force yourself to move your knees over the couple of inches that you had to move in order to be where Dean wanted you. Once you were there, you knew what he wanted you do as he palmed himself through his jeans, but no matter how hard you tried to push yourself, you couldn’t do it.    
  


“Come on, baby girl, I ain’t got all day.” He chuckled, and you shakily moved your hands to his belt, slowly unbuckling it as you felt your face get hot as you felt Dean’s eyes intensely studying you. You unbuttoned his jeans and your hands were now shaking so badly you could hardly pull down his zipper. One you got there, your hands froze and you tried to make them move, as you didn’t want to anger Dean, but you truly couldn’t. Like there was some invisible force stopping you and as you stared at his crotch and at the red fabric of this boxers. Knowing that that was as far as you’d get, he huffed and pulled himself out, and you were intimidated at how well endowed he was before remembering that he’s already been inside of you. You shut your eyes and shook as he grabbed your good hand and made you grasp his length. Tears gathered in your closed eyes as he grabbed your hair and forced your face into his groin. 

 

“You should know by now that fighting me is only going to make me hurt you more, sweetheart. I already have the shit to fix the bones I’m going to break, so don’t make it easy for me.” You let out a quiet sob as Dean saw the opportunity and moved his hips forward in the chair, effectively shoving himself into your mouth. Your yelp was muffled as he forced himself into the back of your throat and making your gag reflex react. You heard him groan in pleasure and it made your blood boil, and before you could stop yourself, you bit down as hard as you could. Dean pulled your hair back and you felt him leave your mouth with an angry growl and you felt the impact of his fist to your face. The pain that bloomed from your cheekbone and your nose was evidence enough that he’d broken both and you instantly regretted bringing your teeth down. As you fell back from the impact and the blood started to gush from your nose, your good hand hovered over your face, reluctant to touch because you knew you’d only cause yourself more pain. You didn’t notice as Dean stood up before crouching down next to you, grabbing your face and bringing his own mere inches away from yours. 

 

“Was that really a good idea, baby girl? Are you proud of how fucking stupid that was?” His malice laced voice sent shivers down your spine and you felt him shift into a standing position before digging his thumb into the impact point of your cheekbone and forcing your jaw open. Your whimper was cut off by his member going down your throat. You gagged again, struggling to breath through your nose that was now clogged with blood, and when your vision started to go black around the edges due to the lack of oxygen and pain, you hoped you’d just pass out. You hastily grabbed onto the first thing you could to stay upright, which happened to be the tops of Dean’s jeans. Before you could plead to him, he pulled out of your mouth long enough to give you some air before forcing himself back in. It went on like that, and you’d thought you knew real pain throughout your life, but it was nothing compared to an angry demon facefucking you and purposely pressing on your broken bones just to cause you more pain. You’d never been more thankful than when he finally stilled and came down your throat with a pleasured groan, leaving your mouth and harshly shoving you away and down by your shoulder. You caught yourself on your hands and you were coughing up semen, blood, and mucus. You wiped your mouth and nose off with the sleeve of your hoodie, wincing when you bumped your broken bones. The tears that streamed down your face mingled with your blood and made your vision blurry as you pushed yourself back, sitting with both legs tucked under yourself still leaning on your hands.

 

“I’m going to go cut through some asshole’s neck before I snap yours.” Dean spat as he grabbed his coat and keys before leaving the room without another word.  _ Maybe it would be a good idea to stop pissing him off.  _ The voice in your head sassed sarcastically. You ignored it and grabbed the edge of the mattress, using it to push yourself to your feet.  _ If he’s planning on keeping me alive like he said, I can’t fucking do this.  _ You looked at your surroundings when you saw the motel phone sitting there, and in your mind it was lit up like the holy grail. Deciding that you were going to take the risk, you held your good hand under your nose to stop the blood from dripping any more all over your hoodie and the motel carpet as you walked to the window and peeked around the curtain, seeing the Impala nowhere in sight but spotting your baby where you’d left her. Scanning the motel parking lot, not seeing another car in sight, you all but ran to the nightstand that held the phone. You picked up the receiver, quickly dialing the number you had recognized by heart, and staring at the door. You kept your other ear listening as hard as you could to any outside noise. The phone rang twice before a groggy voice answered.    
  
“Hello?” Sam asked, sounding like he’d just been woken. Your heart soared with hope. 

 

“Sam! It’s me! Dean tricked me into coming to this stupid fucking town on a hunt and when I got here he fucking tied me up and he won't let me go! I need help!” You rambled, adrenaline high as your mind told you Dean would catch you any second now.    
  


“What? (Y/n)? Are you okay? Has he hurt you? Where are you?” He said, sounding very alert now and you could hear him shuffling in the background, the sound of keys jiggling as he picked them up causing you to basically get high off of the ambition that he could come and save you. 

 

“I’m fine and he hasn’t hurt me.” It almost pained you to lie, or maybe it was just your broken bones aching, but you couldn’t bare to tell him what his brother had just done. He didn’t need to know right now. “We’re at the Springs Motel in Effingham, Kansas! I think it’s room 36 or 37?” You heard whatever door he left through slam and the car door opening. You could hear the keys on his phone clicking as he typed something into it. 

 

“Okay (Y/n), it’s a little more than three hours away. I’m coming right now, just hold on. I’m going to get there as fast as I can.” You nodded at his words even though he couldn’t see you. 

  
“Okay. I’ve gotta go before he gets back. Thank you, Sam.” You said and hung up the phone before he could reply, your mind playing out how it would go if Dean had come back with you telling his brother where to find him, and the result was not good. You took a deep breath and took a step back from the phone looking out of the couple of inch gap between the curtains, waiting for Dean to pop up. When he didn’t, you looked around, spotting the bathroom door and quickly ushering yourself to the small room. You put your hands on the edge of the vanity, trying to control your breathing before you looked up into the mirror. You were only partially surprised to see that your left eye had been swollen partially closed and your cheek and nose were now black and purple. You sighed, still able to  _ taste  _ Dean in your mouth. The thought that you’d been raped by Dean not once, but twice now hit you and you sunk down to the floor while the tears that had been sliding down your face increased. You silently sobbed as you wrapped your arms around your torso, holding yourself as you wished Sam would hurry and take you from this hell. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's whatever this is y'all. I'm not quitting this story and if I was, I'd tell y'all. I'm just not super inspired to write that often and I've been hella busy with my life. I'll try to update maybe once a month but this story does come after school and work and my sanity haha. Thank y'all for reading!

You jumped as you heard the room’s door slam shut. He was back. It seemed like just  seconds ago you’d ended the phone call with Sam, but in reality it had been well over an hour. You’d successfully pulled your consciousness to the back of your mind and zoned out for long enough to not be constantly aware of the pain you were currently in. Coming out of the recesses of yourself, you noticed you how badly you’d started shaking. 

 

“(Y/n). Come on out, sweetheart,” Dean’s voice was sounded like a million miles away through the blood rushing in your ears, and you felt nausea overcome you. You forced yourself to your feet and rushed the toilet that was across the small room. You barely even pulled the lid up before the small amount of the fast food you’d eaten an hour before Dean had called you last night made their way into the toilet.  _ Last night.  _ It’s barely been  _ a day _ since your person had been shattered. You spit the vile aftertaste out of your mouth, flushing the toilet and going to steal the complementary toothbrush from the counter before covering it with the toothpaste it was on top of, shoving it into your mouth and hastily scrubbing your teeth. Right after you had cupped a hand of water and used it to rinse your mouth out, the bathroom door opened. You quickly spit the water out and turned to the man who had fucked up your life so quickly, unwilling to give him any chance of coming up behind you. He was leaning in the doorframe wearing a new set of clothes and a sinister grin but you could still see a few specks of blood on his hairline. He glanced towards the toilet and then looked to you, seeming pleased.

 

“Feeling sick, doll?” He asked sarcastically. Your anger flared yet again and you found yourself wanting to punch that stupid smirk off of his face. Your body, however, was not up to par, as your facial and arm injuries throbbed as your heart rate rose. You forced yourself to look down at the floor and huffed from your nose. Dean observed you for a moment before walking forward and stopping right in front of you. You stared at his shoes, not able to bring your eyes to meet his, which undoubtedly will be as black as the void. You saw his hand come up, but it still made you jump when he grasped your jaw. He forced you to look into his eyes, which were inky but when you really met his gaze, he let them turn back to that incredible shade of green.

 

“I really think you and I could have a great life together, don’t you think? I really think you’d be the perfect sex slave for me. Maybe we’ll have to grow old together…” He trailed off as you felt your skin crawl at the prospect of him keeping you until you were well into your seventies. You knew he could do it simply for the sadism. You were surprised when he pulled your face to his and captured your lips in a dominating kiss, forcing his tongue in your mouth. He bent down a little to slide his hands behind your knees, lifting you up onto the bathroom counter, never breaking the kiss. You simply sat there, playing possum to the predator while he did as he wanted. He didn’t seem to like that. 

 

“Baby girl, I suggest you participate unless you want both sides of your face to match.” He said, quickly recapturing your lips. Sucking in a deep breath through your nose, you started moving your lips against his, telling yourself that  _ Sam is coming. Sam is on his way. Do as he says and you can live.  _ Dean grabbed your wrists, positioning them around his neck as he moved even closer and started pressing his stiffening member against your core. Another wave of nausea hit but you forced yourself to focus on the task at hand.  _ Everything was going to be okay because Sam is coming. He’s on his way. Just hold on. _ Dean deepened the kiss and put his hands under your ass, picking you up and walking out of the bathroom. Surprisingly, he was gentle as he laid you down on the bed, moving from your mouth to your jaw, and down to your neck. You gave a shuddering breath, trying to calm yourself down. Dean kept kissing his way down your body, giving almost kind kisses on your midsection which was clothed by your hoodie. It wasn’t important to Dean, who kept going down further until you realized what he was planning to do. 

 

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your leggings and started pulling and you felt your eyes once more fill with tears. You know there was nothing you could do to stop him, yet you kept trying. 

 

“Dean,” You didn’t get to say much else before he yanked your leggings to your ankles, taking them off and throwing them to the side. He pulled your legs apart and started moving towards your center. “Please don’t do that.” You squeaked in a quiet voice as the tears started spilling. He acted as if you’d said nothing, bringing his mouth to you, licking one stipe up to your clit. You whimpered as he began to lick, suck, and nibble every inch of you. You grabbed fistfulls of the sheets as you started to feel the pleasure you didn’t want. Silent sobs rolled from your throat as he circled your entrance with his finger, pushing it in with no problem. You closed your eyes, deciding to wait for it to be over as you could do nothing. 

 

You could do nothing to escape the pleasure though, as Dean had presumably eaten out dozens of girls before you and definitely was an expert on the art. After a few minutes of the sounds of your whimpers mixed with a few grunts from Dean, the mouth sucking on your clit and the finger massaging your g-spot were too much and you came embarrasingly hard. Dean quickly pulled his head back, letting your fluids spray his chin as he licked his lips and kept massaging your spot with his finger, draining you completely as you couldn't stop the string of moans that came from you. Dean pulled his finger out and brought it up to rub your clit a couple of times, making you twitch a little before standing up, bringing his hands to his belt buckle. 

 

“Didn’t expect you to be a squirter, (Y/n). A pleasant surprise, though,” You looked away from him in mortification, your face feeling hot as the blood rushed into it, and the tears were falling down your face like a leaking faucet. You heard Dean’s belt buckle open, then the zipper being pulled down as he walked the few steps back to the bed, coming to where he left you, pulling you to the edge of the bed. You glanced over at him to see him giving himself a few strokes as he looked down at you. 

 

“Now, there’s only one hole I haven’t filled yet. What do you say we get that over with? Then I’ll own  _ all _ of you. You’re going to belong to me, sweetheart.” Your heart started pounding. You knew that anal would hurt a lot more than vagainal penetration and you weren’t prepared for that. Dean looked down at you, that stupid shit eating smirk on his face once again as he lined himself up with your hole. 

 

“Dean, please. Not dry. Please.” You said, the panic evident in your voice at the thought of being ripped open. He ignored you and started pushing the tip in. You cried out in pain as he kept going deeper, forgetting your place when you put your hands on his chest and pushed even though your broken arm was screaming at you to stop. It had happened fast, but Dean had grabbed three of your fingers on your already-injured hand and bent them backwards quickly, the snap of the bones audible before being drowned out by your scream. He used your distracted state to push himself as deep as he could go, bottoming out. Your screams to stop sounded muted to yourself, like you were underwater and not really all there. The pain was somehow worse than when he had raped you the other two times or even the breaking of your bones.

 

You kicked at Dean, still trying to push him away even with your broken fingers because the pain was insufferable. You had felt something tear and it now felt wet, and it could have only been your blood. Dean grabbed your wrists and pinned them over your head, laying his body flush with yours as his thrusts got more violent. You again heard yourself begging him to stop, but again, it sounded far away and muted. You could also hear Dean grunting something into your ear but you couldn’t focus on the words. The only thing that was on your mind was that it hurt so fucking bad and you would literally rather die than to continue with this for another second. 

 

Your begging wasn’t even coherent anymore, sobs mixed with words and yelps when he gave a particularly hard thrust. You couldn’t believe you were somewhat happy when his thrusts got uneven and sporadic, but if it meant he’d stop this torture you would have gotten on your knees and thanked him. Luckily for you, he soon reached his peak, grunting in your ear, and you couldn’t stop your shivering when he called you his “good little slut”. You were now silent as he pulled himself from you, and you regretted glancing down to see your blood absolutely coating his softening member. 

 

“That wasn’t so bad, now was it, baby girl?” You ignored him, wrapping your arms around your chest and gasping in pain as your fingers made contact with your left upper arm. He chuckled, walking to the bathroom and shutting the door. You heard the water turn on and longed to be the one sitting under the scalding water. You looked up to the ceiling, just now feeling how cold you were and how wet your face was. Your tears were silent as you tried to turn on your side, but yelped when a sharp pain shot up through your spine. You stayed on your back, trying to work up the courage to be able to get up and put some clothes on before he got out of the shower. You glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table, and counted down the minutes in your head until Sam would be here. If everything was as it should be, he had another thirty minutes until you would be out of the demon’s lair. You sighed, giving another try at getting yourself off the bed. You heard the pathetic sounding whimper come from yourself as you grabbed the side of the mattress and pulled yourself to the side of the bed, falling off and hitting your hip hard on the carpeted floor. You let out another yelp, but at least you were closer to your discarded leggings. 

 

You reached over and snatched them with one hand, supporting yourself with your unbroken arm as you shoved your feet through the holes, pulling the fabric up your legs with only your pointer finger and thumb as far as it could go without you needing to move. You tried to push yourself up, but the shooting pain in your spine told you to say where you were. You settled down on the floor by the bed, leaning your back against it and letting your head fall back on top of the sheets. You let the tears pour down your face as you took a deep breath and forced your hips in the air, only enough to pull the leggings past the swell of your ass. Once they were on completely, you simply relaxed into the side of the bed, pulling your arms around your chest, careful for your fingers this time. You closed your eyes, realizing just how exhausted you were when you found yourself asleep. 

 

You were woken a short time later by Dean delivering a hard slap to your face. Immediately, you sat back up and you covered your stinging face with your hand as he walked back to the table. He was already fully dry and dressed, though his hair was still damp.  As you rubbed your cheek, you wanted to laugh as you thought about how you were thankful he hadn’t decided to hit the broken side of your face. 

 

“Rise and shine, sweetheart. We’re hitting the road.” Your eyes turned to saucers as you looked to the clock on the nightstand.  _ Any minute now Sam should be here. All you have to do is stall him for just a little while.  _

 

“Why are we leaving?” You asked, your voice cracking a little. He looked down at you and smiled. 

 

“Sammy’s hot on my trail and we wouldn’t want him to ruin all the fun we’ve been having, would we?” He asked, stepping closer to you as you looked up at him, knowing that that tone he was using was the one you heard right before he’d pounce on you. Your bottom ached at the thought of him going again but you took a deep breath to calm yourself down as Dean advanced on you. You could already see the outline of his hardening member in his jeans, and you tried to mentally prepare yourself for what was about to happen. He was unbuckling his belt when you both heard the shattering of glass outside. 

  
Dean’s head snapped to the window, anger flushing his features as he abandoned his belt and stalked towards the door, hand already curved into a fist. 

 

“If you fucked with my car, you better get ready to die, asshol-” He had opened the door and taken no more than three steps before his words were cut off by a bucket’s worth of holy water being splashed on his face. Dean roared in pain as you saw Sam run from behind the flight of stairs leading to the second floor. He dropped the bucket and quickly pulled out a pair of handcuffs and slapped one cuff on Dean’s wrist as Dean blindly swing his other fist out at his perpetrator, though unable to land a hit. Sam calculated Dean’s movements for a moment before trapping Dean’s other wrist in the second cuff, effectively subduing the demon. You were still seated on the floor by the bed, watching what you thought couldn’t be real through the open door. Sam had come. Dean was down. You were safe. 

 

You couldn’t control the new tears that made their way down your face as Sam reached into Dean’s front pocket and grabbed the keys to the Impala. He left his brother, who was now groaning in pain and defeat, lying on the ground as he went to open the backdoor of the black chevy. You watched in stunned silence as he went back to Dean, wrapping his hand around Dean’s thick upper arm, guiding his irate looking brother to the car, pushing him into the backseat. Sam went to close the door, but it looked like Dean had said something that stopped him. He looked revulsed by whatever his brother had told him before locking the car door and slamming it shut. He looked to the room Dean had just come out of, seeing you and making brief eye contact with you with an unreadable expression on his face. He took a few timid steps toward the door, looking like he didn't want to scare you as you forced your good hand against the mattress, bracing yourself against it as you pushed yourself to your feet. 

 

You gritted your teeth as the pain in your backside came back, not as pronounced as it was twenty minutes ago but still there. It took only a minute, but Sam was soon in the room, a few steps away from you, looking unsure how to approach the situation. You hastily wiped the tears away with your good hand, glancing up at Sam’s face with his expressions that now told you he was pitying you. You sighed, forcing that thought to the back of your head and forcing yourself to flash him a smile. 

 

“Hey, Sam. Thanks for coming.” You spoke, unsure what to say even now. 

 

“(Y/n),” He started, chosing his next words carefully. “I’m sorry that Dean did… well, this.” He sympathized, looking like he was about to go on until you raised your hand at him. 

 

“It’s okay. This wasn’t your fault.” You were still unable to hold eye contact with him, as the look on his face had told you he knew exactly what Dean had done to you. You spotted your duffle bag on the foot of the bed, looking as if Dean had just repacked it before he woke you up. “So,” You stepped past him, hooking your good hand into the straps. “I guess I’ll see you whenever? Call me if you need me?” You babbled, your tone dismissive, and you just wanted to be at least fifty miles from this damned motel and from Dean. 

 

“(Y/n), you’re hurt. You just can’t go off on your own. Come with me back to the bunker, you’ll be safe there.” He reasoned, causing you to stop what you were doing.    
  
“Go with you and be locked in a underground concrete basement with the demon that did this to me? No thanks, Sammy.” You turned to start for the door, but Sam surprised you by stepping in front of you and blocking your path. Immediately, you felt like a trapped prey, your flight or fight response telling your to get the hell out of there. You froze in place as the memory of Dean first trapping you in the room shortly after you discovered he was a demon played itself right in front of you. You couldn’t look away as you saw yourself get overpowered by Dean as he put you in a choke hold. The flashback cut abruptly, leaving your heart pounding as you took shaky breaths, noticing that Sam now looked completely bewildered at your reaction. The look was quickly replaced by a look of sorrow for you. He chose to shake his head as if clearing it before he spoke. 

“Look, the bunker has a room I’m planning to cure Dean in that not even the King Of Hell could escape. If you come back with me, I promise you’ll be safe. You shouldn’t be on your own right now, not after what happened.” Your face flushed. You already knew Dean had told him but it was still humiliating for some reason. You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat as you glanced up at Sam’s face, seeing your childhood protector with nothing but good intent on his face. You trusted Sam; if the King Of Hell himself couldn’t get out of it then Dean sure as shit shouldn’t be able to. 

 

“Okay.” You nodded once, not liking how small your voice sounded. “Could you call my phone?” You asked, not having seen it since the day Dean had captured you. Sam nodded, pulling out his own phone as you took a few deep breaths, your heart still not having calmed completely from the flashback. With Sam’s help, you found not only your phone, but also your keys to your car and all of your other personal items, including your laptop. You decided it was best you left thirty minutes after him so he could lockdown Dean properly and call you to make sure the coast was clear. He gave you the address that you then typed into your phone’s map app and took your keys to put your things in the car for you as you stood bracing the back of the table’s chair to help you stand. Once you were both packed to go, he went to hug you before deciding better of it and he told you he’d see you at the bunker. You simply nodded while he left, Dean in tow. When you were completely alone, you made sure not to take a look back into the motel you had been tortured in in fear of losing what little grasp you had left on your sanity. 

 

You limped to the side of your trusty car and as soon as you closed the door, you were surrounded by the scent of your uncle that still lingered in the car even after all this time. It both comforted you and caused you to completely lose it. You leaned your arms against your steering wheel and your head against your arms as you sobbed loudly. You were alive. You had made it through absolute hell and you came out on the other side unbelievable damaged, but you made it. You just had to keep telling yourself  that. 


	5. Chapter 5

You sat there and cried until no more tears would fall. Even then, you still dry sobbed for almost ten minutes. When you finally pulled yourself together, you leaned back in your seat and numbly grabbed the keys you’d tossed into the passenger seat. Sticking them into the ignition and turning the car on was second nature, but even then it seemed like you were running on autopilot. You grabbed your phone and typed in the address Sam had given you and found the directions easily, turning on the voice navigation so you didn’t have to mount your phone. You listened to the artificial voice and followed what she said while feeling so numb you probably wouldn’t have noticed if you were on fire.  Soon enough you were on the highway again, and you had to force yourself to pay attention to the road. You couldn’t tell how fast exactly you were going, but the police radar you had installed stopped you from getting pulled over. A trip that was supposed to take three hours ended up taking two, and before you knew it, you were rolling up on exactly what you'd expected when you'd heard the word "bunker". 

 

You didn’t see the Impala anywhere in sight so you decided to lay down gently across your bench seat. You took several deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart when you realized you’d be in close proximity of Dean again. Your entire body ached at even the mention of the demon. Sam’s voice rung clearly through your head:  _ “ _ _ If you come back with me, I promise you’ll be safe.”  _ You had to trust Sam. He wouldn’t put you in harm’s way if he didn’t think he couldn’t protect you. You just had to calm down.  _ Breathe _ , you reminded yourself as you were about to go into a full blown panic attack. You counted down from ten and lightly gasped for air until the gasps turned into deep breaths, effectively calming your heart rate. You stayed like that for a while until you heard another car pulling up. Your heart rate shot back up, probably past what it was before.  _ So much for that _ . You listened as you heard the car stop, turn off, and one its doors slam. Hesitantly, you grabbed the steering wheel with your good arm and pulled yourself up, careful of the pain you were causing your bottom. 

 

As you sat up fully, you saw Sam approach your car. You cranked the window down as he got to the side. 

 

“Are you alright? You know, relatively…” He trailed off once he realized how dumb his question sounded. You scoffed under your breath. He didn’t hear it. 

 

“Yeah, Sam. I’ll be okay.” You answered him finally. You glanced up to him, unable to hold eye contact when you saw how much pity he accidently let show on his face. You heard his feet shuffle and saw in your perifial how he scratched his head before speaking again. 

 

“I’m going to take Dean in and secure him.. As soon as I get him tied down, I’ll come out for you okay? Of course, if that’s what you want. I… I just want you to feel safe, (Y/n).” Though your heart had started to race again at the mention of the words “tie down” and “Dean”, you spared him a glance and a small forced smile. 

 

“That sounds good, Sam. Thank you.” He nodded down to you before walking back to the Impala. You looked down to your lap, taking a deep breath as the feeling of impending doom washed over you. You knew Sam would do everything to protect you as he had done since you’d met him, but the thought of being locked in an underground bunker with the demon who’d tortured and raped you the past three days made you start shaking. You could envision a black eyed Dean standing over a very dead Sam who also had a very freshly slit throat. You could also see the covered in blood demon staking towards you and you could already feel the pain he was sure to inflict. You let out a shuddering breath, looking up just in time to see Sam leading a handcuffed Dean through the bunker doors. You felt your heart stutter in your chest as you accidently made extremely brief eye contact with Dean, who smiled directly at you before Sam pushed him through the doors. 

 

You gulped in oxygen like the world was running out, forcing the driver’s door open for some much needed fresh air. You forced yourself to stand through the pain that radiates through your body, not wanting Sam to see you struggle to stand the way you did. You toed the gravel under your feet as you leaned heavily against your car, checking out your surroundings as you waited. The juniper-green trees waved in the wind as you glanced up at the overcast sky, remembering swiping through the weather app during a pit stop earlier and seeing a forecast of thunderstorms for this area over the next two days. You could only hope it wouldn’t wash out these roads and your chance of escape if something happens with it. The low thud of a door had your turning on your heel to face Sam, who looked absolutely livid as his eyes darted around, seemingly looking for a distraction to to cope with whatever he’d just seen or heard. As soon as he made eye contact with you, all the anger disappeared from his face and was replaced with what looked like frustration for something instead. 

 

“What did he tell you?” You asked expectantly as soon as he was close enough to hear you, as you saw that was the most logical reason he’d have that look. His face blanked before he scratched the back of his neck.

 

“It’s not important, (Y/n). Let’s just get you inside.” He walked past you to your backdoor. He opened it and immediately grabbed both bags, broken shoulder be damned. 

 

“Woah, Sam. I can grab one.” You said, reaching for the handle on the heavier bag with your good hand before Sam pulled it out of your reach. You looked up at his guiltiest face yet. 

 

“(Y/n), it’s fine. I can take both. I just think you need a little bit of rest after everything you’ve been through, that’s all.” He said, shutting your car door with his foot before walking past you towards the bunker door while motioning for you to follow him, which you did slowly, limp hindering your speed. You stuffed your hands into your hoodie pockets before shaking your head at the ground. 

 

“Sam, please don’t treat me like  _ that _ . Like I’m one of the people we help.” You said harshly, emotion making you unable to control your tone. His head snapped back at you, looking extremely apologetic. 

 

“I… I didn’t realize I was. I’m sorry, I just can’t get-” He cut himself off before he did even more damage than he already had. How he let it slip was unknown to you but you’d known when he’d walked back out after escorting his brother inside. Dean had more than likely told Sam everything he’d done to you. You could see Dean in the back of his car, tauntingly and in great detail telling Sam everything that had happened from the moment he called you to when “Sammy slapped those cuffs on his wrists and ruined all the fun.”  You recoiled upon hearing Dean’s voice just in your head. You couldn’t hold back the gasp that escaped your lips, but you quickly forced yourself to think of anything else. Sam’s head turned at the sound, but you just looked down, continuing to follow him into the bunker. The cool AC air was vastly different from the hot, humid, pre-thunderstorm weather outside, and the shock of the temperature change made goosebumps appear on your arms. On second thought, that could just be your body unknowingly reactions to being in such close proximity with a demon who had just spent the last few days making your life miserable. 

 

Sam led you down some stairs and you passed a table decorated with a globe as you walked down the corridor, saying nothing as Sam stopped in front of the door with a three on it. Sam opened the door and walked inside and you followed him. The room only had a dresser, a bed, and a sink with a mirror above it, immediately to the left of the door after you enter the room. You tiredly sat on the bed slowly, looking around while Sam placed your bags on the floor by the sink. 

 

“So, the bathrooms are only two doors down from you, the kitchen is down the hallway on your left, and anything else you need you can call my cell, okay? I don’t want you anywhere near the room I’m keeping my brother in.” He pointed at which directions the kitchen and bathrooms were and you nodded as he finished his sentence. You noticed how he avoided saying Dean’s name, which you were grateful for because when you thought of Dean, you remembered him on top of you, his grip bruising the skin under his hands as he pounded into you as if you were nothing more than a sex doll. Suddenly it was like you were restrained to the bed again, tears rolling down your face as Dean took what he wanted roughly.    
  
“ _ So. Fucking. Tight.”  _ You could feel his breath on your neck. You shut your eyes as you brought your arms to wrap around your middle, putting a little too much pressure on your broken arm, now panting for breath. You could feel yourself shaking violently and you could hear Sam calling your name, trying to get you to snap out of whatever panic attack you were experiencing. You took deep breaths, forcing the feeling of Dean’s ice cold grip around your neck away as quickly as you could. It took a minute longer than you would have prefered, but your heart finally calmed down and the black edge around your vision went away, revealing an extremely concerned Sam with his arm held out, ready to help but hesitating given the circumstances. You looked to the door to make sure the demon hadn’t appeared, and you gave a sigh of relief when he wasn’t there.    
  
“Sam…” You started, unsure how to continue. “I just… I need to be left alone right now, okay?” Your voice was cracked and barley came out above a murmur, but Sam understood. 

  
“Okay, (Y/n). You call my cell if you need anything at all, alright?” When you didn’t acknowledge his words, he took that as a cue to leave and walked through the door, shutting it softly behind him. You listened to his footsteps recede down the hall and you let your shoulders slump. You laid back gently on the bed, careful of your arm, and closed your eyes. You wanted nothing more than the bliss of unconsciousness, but your skin crawled. You hadn’t been able to shower after Dean’s last attack and you felt used and dirty, disgusting even. You scoffed at your minds description of your feelings, sitting back up and pulling a sharp gasp through your clenched teeth as pain radiated from your bottom almost all the way up your spine. You looked at the door, wondering how long it would take you to limp down to the bathroom. You wondered if the bathroom door even locked.  _ There’s only one way to find out, _ your mind reminded you, and you forced yourself to stand, this movement less painful than sitting up had been. You slowly opened your door and looked down either side of the hallway, and upon seeing no sign of Sam or the demon, you turned right, heading two doors down and to your left. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to apologize to all the followers of this story for the lack of updates! I've kinda fallen off of writing as much and life has been chaotic to say the least, but I do think I could promise an at least once a month update? If not more (granted the writing gods help me)! This chapter is pretty short but I just needed to update because I felt awful! The next few chapters will be better, I promise!


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